My 2025 in Review (Best Science Fiction Novels and Short Fiction, Reading Initiatives, and Bonus Categories)

  • Graphic created by my father

Here’s to happy reading in 2026! I hope you had a successful reading year. Whether you are a lurker, occasional visitor, a regular commenter, a follower on Bluesky or Mastodon, thank you for your continued support. As I say year after year, It’s hard to express how important (and encouraging) the discussions that occur in the comments, social media, and via email are to me. I’m so thankful for the lovely and supportive community of readers, writers, and discussion partners that stop by.

What were your favorite vintage SF reads–published pre-1985–of 2025? Let me know in the comments.

Throughout the later part of the year I’ve dropped hints about a research project. Perceptive readers might have parsed together the contours of the research: late 19th/early 20th century, utopian, African American, the American South, radical politics… It’s taking longer than expected. I’ve read a good ten monographs, five dissertations, countless articles. I’ve written twenty pages. I hoped to have it posted by early in this year. Alas. It’s coming together–slowly. Stay tuned.

Without further ado, here are my favorite novels (I only read a few) and short stories (I read a ton of those) I read in 2025 with bonus categories. I made sure to link my longer reviews where applicable if you want a deeper dive.

Check out my 202420232022, and 2021 rundowns if you haven’t already. I have archived all my annual rundowns on my article index page if you wanted to peruse earlier years.

My Top 5 Science Fiction Novels of 2025

  • Alan Gutierrez’s cover for the 1985 edition

1. Octavia E. Butler’s Clay’s Ark (1984), 4.5/5 (Very Good). Full review.

Octavia E. Butler’s Clay’s Ark is the final published volume of her Patternist sequence (1976-1984). It is the third novel according to the internal chronology of the series. Clay’s Ark is, without doubt, the most horrifyingly bleak science fiction novel I have ever read. It’s stark. It’s sinister. It’s at turns deeply affective before descending into extreme violence and displaced morality. The moral conundrum that underpins the central problem, the spread of an extraterrestrial disease, unfurls with an unnerving alien logic. Butler’s characters are trapped by the demands of the alien microbes, scarred by the pervasive sense that their humanity is slipping away, and consumed by the fear of starting an epidemic. A true confrontation of the moment cannot lead to anything other than suicide or the first steps towards an apocalyptic transformation.

  • Mark Weber’s cover for the 1st edition

2. Kim Stanley Robinson’s Icehenge (1984), 4.5/5 (Very Good). Full review.

Kim Stanley Robinson’s Icehenge, a fix-up from two previously published stories “To Leave a Mark” (1982) and “On the North Pole of Pluto” (1980), tells three interconnected tales that all connect to a mysterious monolith left on Pluto (the titular Icehenge). By design Icehenge instead follows the action after the action: men and women attempting to figure out their own place in a world characterizes by lifespans that stretch hundreds and hundreds of years. And its this brilliant interconnection between self-conception and the operations of history that Robinson succeeds and casts his spell. The story is well-told, polished, and filled with fascinating details (technological and sociological).

  • Peter Jones’ cover for the 1978 UK edition

3. Joe Haldeman’s All My Sins Remembered (1977), 4/5 (Good). Full review.

The vast Confederación is comprised of radically distinct worlds ruled by the entire spectrum of political systems with both alien and non-alien inhabitants. There are few rules: don’t take advantage of indigenous populations and don’t wage wars on neighboring planets. At 22, the naive Otto McGavin, an Anglo-Buddhist, joins the Confederación as an agent to protect the rights of humans and non-humans. But there’s a twist. Under deep hypnosis a construct of Otto McGavin will be created for each mission. He’ll take on the identity–under a sheath of plasticine flesh–of whatever person he needs to be depending on the task.  The story follows Otto on three missions over many years.  The interlocking segments convey the deep trauma Otto must confront before he’s immersed in another persona and sent on another mission. His idealism clashes with the violence he must perpetuate. His sense of self conflicts with the violent actions of his “constructs.” The looming sense of dread and despair must finally have its reckoning.

  • Uncredited cover for the 1983 edition

4. Zoë Fairbairns’ Benefits (1979), 3.75/5 (Good). Full review.

Zoë Fairbairns charts the struggles of the British women’s liberation movement in a dystopic near future. An anti-feminist fringe political party called FAMILY comes to power, simultaneously proclaiming family values while systematically dismantling the welfare state. Benefits effectively eviscerates governmental doublespeak and champions the need to organize and educate in order to fight against patriarchal forces and messianic movements that promise to solve all our ills.

  • Colin Hay’s cover for the 1976 edition

5. Edgar Pangborn’s The Company of Glory (1975), 3.5/5 (Good). Full review.

Edgar Pangborn is an unsung SF hero in my book. At his best, he’s a deeply humanistic writer interested in moments of effective metafictional play on the nature of narrative. The Company of Glory (serialized 1974, 1975) is the third novel in the Tales of Darkening World sequence. It forms a prequel to Pangborn’s masterpiece Davy (1964). As with DavyThe Company of Glory attempts to create multiple interlocking layers of narrative, stories within the stories, quotations from various diaries, and the interjections of the overarching narrator of the entire collection of texts who remains anonymous until the final pages. Unfortunately, The Company of Glory is a deeply flawed novel. Recommended only for Pangborn’s fans. Read Davy first if you’re new to his work.

My Top 20 Science Fiction Short Stories Reads of 2025 (click titles for my full review)

1. Philip K. Dick’s “Foster, You’re Dead” (1955), 5/5 (Masterpiece): I featured on a podcast about this story. When the episode is posted, I’ll make sure to link it. Mike Foster spends his school days practicing survival skills–digging, making knives, weaving baskets–in case of a nuclear attack. The kids snicker at him as he walks past. They don’t own a fallout shelter at home. His father refuses to pay into the NATS (National Security fund). If a bomb hit, Mike wouldn’t even be granted access to the school shelter. He’s possessed by a deep, perpetual, encompassing trauma.

2. Fritz Leiber’s “Coming Attraction” (1950), 5/5 (Masterpiece): A rare reread! Leiber imagines an America transformed after a limited nuclear war with the Soviet Union. The physical landscape mirrors the psychological scars of New York’s inhabitants. Perverse new forms of TV entertainment, in particular male wrestlers pitted against masked women, transfix all audiences.

3. Jack Dann’s “A Quiet Revolution for Death” (1978), 5/5 (Masterpiece): Roger and his family head out of the city for a picnic in a vast cemetery. Roger dreams that he is an angel of God guiding mankind through the realm. Visiting the cemetery is an act of devotion. While other kids plug themselves into feelies, Bennie is a fanatic disciple of his father’s pseudo-philosophy of embracing the macabre. Sandra, Roger’s wife, plays along. The kids see through her dislike of the cemetery and the burial rituals happening around them.

4. Izumi Suzuki’s“Terminal Boredom” (1984, trans. by Daniel Joseph 2021), 4.5/5 (Very Good): A nameless young female main character recounts her interactions her one-time boyfriend. HE wants to reconnect with his mother, who abandoned his family. HE joins a staged show called The Psychoanalysis Room in an attempt to convince his mother to take “pity and come and find” him. She also has a dysfunctional family. Her mother, a TV executive, struggles/refuses to connect to her daughter. Like some manifestation of the modern hikikomori, they often refuse to communicate with others, eat as a group or eat at all for days on end, or leave their dwellings for the sun and vista of the aboveground. Both find solace and escape in the vacuities and artifice of television.

5. Philip K. Dick’s “Explorers We” (1959), 4.5/5 (Very Good): Six astronauts return to earth from a voyage to Mars. But they are not treated as heroes. Instead people flee. I found “Explorers We” a well-crafted existential terror. The story plays with narrative expectation and hints at a cosmic enormity that will, at least in this iteration, remain unknown.

6. James Tiptree, Jr.’s “Painwise” (1972), 4.5/5 (Very Good): An explorer who feels no pain is hurled mercilessly from planet to plant where is he tortured, experimented upon, and broken again, and again, and again. His sense of time dissipates. Space becomes a hellscape that he cannot escape. And each time he’s lifted back to his scout ship where a mechanical boditech stitches him back together.

7. Jack Dann’s “The Dybbuk Dolls” (1975), 4.5/5 (Very Good): Chaim Lewis works at a sex shop down below in the Undercity, one of many identical spheres, one mile in diameter, buried one thousand feet below the ground.  As Chaim finishes up his shift in the dingy shop, a group of visitors ask about his hook-ins and 21st century pornos. Eventually one of them asks him about his alien sex doll collection. And when he returns to the room with the dolls, he discovers they’ve all been unpacked and they imprint themselves on his mind! Cue a descent into the bizarre…

8.  Jack Williamson’s “Guinevere for Everybody” (1955), 4.5/5 (Very Good): An artificially created Guinevere stands “chained” in a “vending machine” tempting sleepy passengers in an airport with her plaintive calls. I did not know Williamson had this type of vision in him! The surprise of the year!

9. George H. Smith’s “The Last Days of L. A.” (1959), 4/5 (Good): A nameless character (“you”) wakes from a recurring dream: “the dream that has haunted the whole world since that day in 1945.” A dream of apocalyptic annihilation, in infinite variations. A narrative repetition takes form: Nuclear nightmare. The waking moment. The aimless quest for understanding. Communing with other lost souls. The retreat to the bottle. Fragments of the news suggest a world unraveling.

10. Theodore Sturgeon’s “The Stars Are the Styx” (1950), 4/5 (Good): The premise: Humans created Curbstone, an artificial satellite around Earth, to facilitate the ultimate scientific achievement–near instantaneous transportation across the galaxy. How? Individual spaceships, with a solitary crew person or couple, will be hurled out from Curbstone at various points across the space time continuum. The story revolves around the aging (and rotund) Senior Release Officer on Curbstone, who certifies, counsels, and guides the strange collection of humans who gather at the station willing to take such a risk.

11. Richard Matheson’s “Dance of the Dead” (1955), 4/5 (Good): In a drug and alcohol drenched near-future, a group of young adults take a break-neck road drip and stray from the path set out by parents and small town community. Manifesting the SPEED of the car, Matheson’s prose resonates with pulse and hum, snippets of song and signage, slang and youthful lust. It’s frantic. It’s zappy. It’s vibrant. Recommended for fans of the more linguistically experimental (and bleak) of 50s visions.

12. Jack Dann’s “Rags” (1973), 4/5 (Good): Joanna wanders the streets without seeing a single person. Everything she sees—from garbage cans to parked cars–seem in be various states of decay (“dented, rusted, and discolored”). She teaches herself a new way to walk to avoid the “invisible beings” that flit around her (6). She remembers a past sickness. Deaths in the family. She makes new rules of movement and perception as an act of preservation.  And suddenly she sees The Purple Cat.

13. Jack Dann’s “Fragmentary Blue” (variant title: “There are no Bannisters”) (1973), 4/5 (Good): he elderly dwell underground in large domed cities. It’s a commercial and media-inundated world — tiny machines grant “feeling” as you watch commercials. Professor Fleitman, who “could not rationalize having an orgasm over a cigarette advertisement,” presents a new idea to galvanize the elderly to Entertainment Committee. Rather than a feelie or a movie he wants to put on a circus.

14. Arkady and Boris Strugatsky’s “Wanderers and Travellers” (1963, trans. 1966), 4/5 (Good): Stanisław Ivanovich spends his days submerged in lakes and rivers tagging septopods, a new octopus-like species discovered on Earth. His daughter, Marsha, assists from above. When he emerges from a lake, Marsha is deep in conversation with Leonid Andreevich Gorbovsky, an astroarchaeologist implied to be on leave from an expedition. The two scientists–IIvanovich, with his eyes on earthly mystery, and Gorbovsky, untangling the traces of potential intelligences across the cosmos–and Marsha engage in a series of discussions about the nature of the universe.

15. John Wyndham’s “The Man From Beyond” (variant title: “The Man from Earth”) (1934), 3.5/5 (Good): Somewhere on the Venusian surface the Valley of Dur, with its amalgamation of gasses, traps unsuspecting denizens who wander into its depths. In the city of Takon, Venusians, six-limbed creatures with silvery hair, ogle the strange beasts extricated and caged and exhibited from the Valley. The child, transfixed by the man’s noises and scrawls, pushes his stylus and pad under the bars. And Morgan Gratz, stranded astronaut and self-confessed murderer, draws for the child the respective locations of their planets.

16. Katherine MacLean’s “Contagion” (1950), 3.5/5 (Good) is a contact with an alien planet tale that’s legitimately odd. A hunting party looking for specimens of alien life in order to dissect, sets off from the spaceship Explorer across an alien planet called Minos. Reasonably, the crew is obsessed with a minute medical analysis of flora and fauna. The hunting party encounters a majestically shaped human who spins a crazy tale of adaptation and disease. 

17. Cherry Wilder’s “The Ark of James Carlyle” (1974), 3.5/5 (Good): Carlyle spends his tour of duty in a hut with a wood platform on small landmass surrounded by an “oily purple sea” on an alien planet. A crisis hits — and he suddenly learns the reason for the singular trees that grow in the center of each island.

18. E. C. Tubb’s“Without Bugles” (1952), 3.5/5 (Good): A naive journalist struggles to confront her heroic idealism, regurgitated through the media, in her attempt to save the Mars colony afflicted with a futuristic case of the black lung.

19.  Frank K. Kelly’s “Famine on Mars” (1934), 3.5/5 (Good): President Herbert Hoover infamously proclaimed on the eve of the Great Depression that “given the chance to go forward with the policies of the last eight years, we shall soon with the help of God, be in sight of the day when poverty will be banished from this nation.” “Famine on Mars,” published five years into the Great Depression, evokes similar paradigmatic shifts between propagandistic proclamation and harsh reality. Kelly spins a nightmare account of a famine on Mars and a plan to save the starving legions.

20. Gerald Kersh’s “Whatever Happened to Corporal Cuckoo?” (1953), 3.5/5 (Good): Kersh imagines a literary version of himself returning to New York City from WWII interacting with a fantastical manifestation of a Wound Man on board the Cunard White Star liner Queen Mary. Corporal Cuckoo, the “Wound Man” in question, regals the narrator (Kersh) with the history of his scarred and mutilated form that mysteriously heals from every injury.

Reading Initiatives

I have continued, resurrected, and created new science fiction short story reading series over the course of the year. Most of the stories I’ve picked for the series are available in some fashion online via links to Internet Archive in each review. I’ve included installments from 2024 in each series below. Feel free to read along with me! And thanks for all the great conversation.

Galaxy Science Fiction Read-through (started 2025)

  • Galaxy Science Fiction, ed. H. L. Gold (October 1950)
  • Galaxy Science Fiction, ed. H. L. Gold (November 1950) 
  • Organized Labor and Unions in Science Fiction (started in 2024)

  • Mack Reynolds’ The Earth War (1964)
  • Zoë Fairbairns’ Benefits (1979)
  • The First Three Published Short Fictions by Female Authors (continued from 2021)

  • Cherry Wilder (1930-2002)
  • Translated Short Stories in Translation (with Rachel S. Cordasco) (started in 2024)

  • Arkady and Boris Strugatsky’s “Wanderers and Travellers” (1963, trans. 1966)
  •  Izumi Suzuki’s “Terminal Boredom” (1984, trans. by Daniel Joseph 2021)
  • The Media Landscape of the Future (started in 2022)

  • George H. Smith’s “In the Imagicon” (1966)
  • Izumi Suzuki’s “Terminal Boredom” (1984)
  • Jack Dann’s “Fragmentary Blue” (variant title: “There are no Bannisters”) (1973)
  • The Search for the Depressed Astronaut  (continued from 2020)

  • Philip K. Dick’s “Explorers We” (1959) 
  • James Tiptree, Jr.’s “Painwise” (1972)
  • E. C. Tubb’s “Without Bugles” (1952)
  • E. C. Tubb’s “Home is the Hero” (1952)
  • E. C. Tubb’s “Pistol Point” (1953)
  • John Wyndham’s “The Man From Beyond” (variant title: “The Man from Earth”) (1934)
  • Generation Ship Short Stories (continued from 2019)

  • George Hay’s Flight of the “Hesper” (1952)
  • Exploration Logs (continued from 2022)

  • Exploration Log 7: Interview with Jordan S. Carroll, author of Speculative Whiteness: Science Fiction and the Alt-Right (2024)
  • Exploration Log 8: Pat M. Kuras and Rob Schmieder’s “When It Changed: Lesbians, Gay Men, and Science Fiction Fandom” (1980)
  • Exploration Log 9: Three More Interviews with Clifford D. Simak (1904-1988)
  • Exploration Log 10: Interview with Jaroslav Olša, Jr., author of Dreaming of Autonomous Vehicles: Miloslav (Miles) J. Breuer: Czech-American Writer and the Birth of Science Fiction (2025)
  • Exploration Log 11: Interview with Chukwunonso Ezeiyoke, author of Nigerian Speculative Fiction: The Evolution (2025)
  • My Top 4 History Reads of 2025

    A large portion of my history reading this year pushed my general interest in labor history and leftist politics backwards into the 19th century. Unusual for me I know! Often I write about what I can write about not what I plan on writing about. A brief caveat worth repeating: I’m a PhD-wielding historian and have a high tolerance for academic texts. That said, I’d classify everything in my list as on the approachable side of things if you know the broad strokes of American history.

    1. Laurie F. Maffly-Kipp’s Setting Down the Sacred Past: African-American Race Histories (2010): This filled a complete hole in my knowledge. While I had encountered history-centric militant abolitionist texts written by black authors, I did not know how they fitted into the larger historiographic project of the era. As my PhD looked at universal histories in the medieval period, I’m a sucker for all kinds of histories of historiography! This is a good one.

    2. Deborah Beckel’s Radical Reform: Interracial Politics in Post-Emancipation North Carolina (2011): I read this one for my research project on a black utopian author. Beckel’s brilliant monograph looks at the race and politics in North Carolina after the end of Reconstruction–a “fusion” government of Republicans and Populists managed to take power (temporarily) from the white supremacist Democratic status quo in the 1890s. Depressing. Fascinating. I’m waiting for an alt-history that uses the 1898 election in North Carolina as a jonbar hinge — hah!

    3. Edward K. Spann’s Brotherly Tomorrows: Movements for A Cooperative Society in America (1989): While an older monograph, Spann’s work is a fantastic survey of the fascinating range of radical social idealism-inspired communities that proliferated across America. I’m obsessed by left-wing ideologies that permeate the rural world and movements for working-class utopianism. Spann will inspire you to track down newer monographs on the social movements he surveys.

    4. Jordan S. Carroll’s Speculative Whiteness: Science Fiction and the Alt-Right (2025): Rightly won the Hugo! I interviewed Carroll in January. In the book, he examines the ways the alt-right uses classic science fiction imagery and authors to mainstream fascism and advocate for the overthrow of the state. This is a short monograph designed to encourage thought. Highly recommended.

    Goals for 2026

    1. Keep reading and writing.

    2. Read more reviews by other bloggers.

    3. Cover more SF in translation.

    For cover art posts consult the INDEX

    For book reviews consult the INDEX

    For TV and film reviews consult the INDEX

    #1950s #1960s #1970s #ArkadyAndBorisStrugatsky #bookReview #bookReviews #books #CherryWilder #ECTubb #EdgarPangborn #fiction #FrankKKelly #fritzLeiber #GeorgeHSmith #GeraldKersh #IzumiSuzuki #JackDann #JackWilliamson #JamesTiptreeJr #JoeHaldeman #JohnWyndham #KatherineMacLean #KimStanleyRobinson #OctaviaEButler #philipKDick #RichardMatheson #sciFi #scienceFiction #TheodoreSturgeon #ZoeFairbairns

    Short Book Reviews: Joe Haldeman’s All My Sins Remembered (1977) and Burt Cole’s Subi: The Volcano (1957)

    Note: My read but “waiting to be reviewed pile” is growing. Short rumination/tangents/impressions are a way to get through the stack before my memory and will fades. My website partially serves as a record of what I have read and a memory palace for future projects. Stay tuned for more detailed and analytical reviews.

    1. Joe Haldeman’s All My Sins Remembered (1977)

    • Peter Jones’ cover for the 1978 UK edition

    4/5 (Good)

    The vast Confederación is comprised of radically distinct worlds ruled by the entire spectrum of political systems with both alien and non-alien inhabitants. There are few rules: don’t take advantage of indigenous populations and don’t wage wars on neighboring planets. At 22, the naive Otto McGavin, an Anglo-Buddhist, joins the Confederación as an agent to “protect the rights of humans and non-humans” (1). But there’s a twist. Under “deep hypnosis” (6) a “construct” of Otto McGavin will be created for each mission. He’ll take on the identity–under a sheath of plasticine flesh–of whatever person he needs to be depending on the task. Otto, and all his training, will only kick in when his life is at risk.

    The story follows Otto on three missions over many years. The first two of the three novellas “To Fit the Crime” (1971), “The Only War We’ve Got” (1974), and “All My Sins Remembered” (1977) appeared in Galaxy magazine. In the first, he must become Dr. Isaac Crowell –“ten per cent Otto McGavin and ninety per cent your artificial personality overlay” (19)–and investigate a murder on a planet in which the aliens must be forced to pause frenetic mining. In the second, he must investigate a scheme to attack a neighboring planet on a human colony world filled with brutal predators. He takes on the persona of a master duelist. And in the third section, he must become one of the founding fathers of the Congregation of Mary Magdalene in their attempt to convert the local, immortal, aliens. The interlocking segments convey the deep trauma Otto must confront before he’s immersed in another persona and sent on another mission. His idealism clashes with the violence he must perpetuate. His sense of self attempts conflicts with the violent actions of his “constructs.” The looming sense of dread and despair must finally have its reckoning.

    If you’re new to Joe Haldeman’s science fiction, definitely check out The Forever War (1975) and Mindbridge (1976), first. However, All My Sins Remembered (1977) is not to be missed. Often the previously published sections of a fix-up novel meld poorly with the new material inserted to tie the sections together. Fix-ups can feel hasty. That is not the case here. Haldeman adeptly weaves together the stories via interviews between Otto and his contact before the next mission. The interlocking sections in which Otto must confront his actions, become the scenes of the reckoning with personal and ideological anguish. The double-sense of self is rendered in starkly powerful, and horrifying, ways–informed by Haldeman’s own experiences in Vietnam.

    Recommended.

    2. Burt Cole’s Subi: The Volcano (1957)

    • Rudland’s cover for the 1958 edition

    3.25/5 (Above Average)

    Burt Cole (1930-) spins a disturbed and savage near-future tale set in a nameless Southeast Asian country. The story focuses on an American military camp surrounded by a sprawling tent-city of a desperate and diseased local population. A nameless enemy looms somewhere over the hills beyond. It’s impossible to escape the sense that Cole was inspired by the French defeat at the Battle of Điện Biên Phủ (1954) in Vietnam1 and the re-establishment of the status quo at the end of the Korean War (1950-1953).2 Due to my deep fascination with Vietnam-inspired science fiction–I’ve compiled a massive list over the last few years–I eagerly devoured this lesser-known and early commentary on America’s Cold War involvement in Asia. The parallels with later American involvement in Vietnam are coincidentally unnerving.

    Four elements will immediately rear their heads to the unsuspecting reader: 1) A disengaged, almost cavalier narrator who survives the traumatic and hyper-violent horror that swirls around him with disquieting flippancy 2) An encyclopedic obsession with suffering — countless scenes devolve into descriptions of extreme poverty, starving children, dead animals, disease, sex trafficking, etc. 3) the deep-seated racism that the American soldiers hold for the Indo-Chinese population suffering from the occupation and violence caused by the occupier and the nameless enemy 4) Claustrophobia — most of the action takes place in a military camp under siege by starving masses that attempt to break through their gates. The novel pairs the passive observations of the Intelligence Officer Fletcher, the narrator, with the active choices of Private Judson, prone to often bewildering (to his fellow soldiers) acts of empathy for the “enemy.” The third main character, Packard, attempts to recover and find purpose after the loss of half his face.

    While Subi: The Volcano (1957) isn’t a lost classic, Cole does manage to create an unforgettable, if a bit unpolished, reading experience. Cole attempts to chart the different ways that traumatized soldiers process the horror of a war that they have caused. Brutal. Unsettling. Claustrophobic. Meandering. I’ll read Burt Cole’s later post-apocalyptic novel Blood Knot (1980) at some point in the near future.

    Notes

  • There are a few noticeable parallels: 1) Both historical battle and story are set in fortified camps 2) Both besieged groups assume the enemy has no aircraft support 3) Both Điện Biên Phủ and the nameless city in Subi: The Volcano were distant beachheads in enemy territory 4) A complex network of tunnels feature in the story and in the historical assault. 5) Those besieged are far outnumbered by their attackers and possess superior technology but far smaller numbers. 6)The novel mentions repeatedly Indo-Chinese populations in South East Asia placing the story somewhere in the region. ↩︎
  • I suspect it’s a combination of both. Spoiler: As the novel does not end in outright defeat, it’s easy to see it as commentary on the re-establishment of the 38th parallel in Korea. The explicit South-East Asia locale would suggest the French in Vietnam as an obvious reference as well. ↩︎
  • For book reviews consult the INDEX

    For cover art posts consult the INDEX

    For TV and film reviews consult the INDEX

    #1950s #1970s #bookReviews #BurtCole #JoeHaldeman #KoreanWar #sciFi #scienceFiction #VietnamWar

    Short Book Reviews: Harry Harrison’s Captive Universe (1969), John Christopher’s The Death of Grass (1956), Nancy Kress’ An Alien Light (1987), and Joe Haldeman’s Mindbridge (1976)

    My “to review” pile is growing and my memory of them is fading… hence short—far less analytical—reviews. 1. Mindbridge, Joe Haldeman (1976) (Josh Kirby’s cover for the 1977 edition) 4.5/5 (Ve…

    Science Fiction and Other Suspect Ruminations
    @fzer0 großartig! Und wenn dir Teil 2 zu doof ist, dann nimm dir "the forever war" von Joe Haldeman vor. #derewigekrieg #joehaldeman #starshiptroopers
    📚 This month’s book is The Forever War by Joe Haldeman
    A classic of military science fiction, it tackles war, time travel, and the cost of coming home.
    Join us for the Tog Sci-Fi Book Club on Tuesday, August 26th, at 7:30 pm in person at Tog Hackerspace.
    New readers are always welcome! https://www.meetup.com/tog-dublin-hackerspace/events/trbnstyhclbjc
    #SciFi #BookClub #TheForeverWar #TogHackerspace #JoeHaldeman #ReadingCommunity

    ALL MY SINS REMEMBERED (1978)
    Acrylic on Illustration Board - 30" x 22"

    An early career illustration that might be best remembered for its later inclusion in the liner notes of Meatloaf's BAT OUT OF HELL II album. 1/3

    #illustration #sciencefiction #joehaldeman #meatloaf

    In my teens I was profoundly affected by a small number of books that I read. As a result of reading them I became intensely interested in the politics of pacifism and the strategies of conflict resolution and resistance. My introduction to science fiction was a suitcase full of books given to me by my dad’s best friend. I was at that stage in a Reading Child’s life where I’d have read baked bean cans, so I plowed through an eclectic selection of books.

    The first two to really affect me were Joe Haldeman’s All My Sins Remembered (1977) and Brian Stableford’s The Florians (1976). In the first—a fix-up—an intergalactic agent, selected precisely because he is conflict averse, begins to crumble as a consequence of the pressures between his childhood Buddhist upbringing and the violence he has experienced and perpetrated in his job. In the second, a man who has lost his son to a pacifist movement discovers while on a mission the power of saying “No” when faced with the threat of violence.

    These books led me to the Quakers. I started attending when I was 15 and joined in my mid-20s. I pursued a master’s degree in peace studies and eventually a doctorate in peace history. At the same time I was looking out for alternatives to conflict in science fiction. Orson Scott Cards’ Speaker for the Dead (1986), with its argument that Truth is a very powerful weapon, blew me away. Judith Moffett’s anti-imperialist and anti-colonialist Pennterra (1987) and Joan Slonczewski’s Still Forms on Foxfield (1980), with its refuseniks and the calm seeking of consensus which is a feature of both novels (even if Moffett’s Quakers achieve it amazingly quickly) taught me to slow down in my own decision making. Piers Anthony’s Golem in the Gears (1986) introduced me to the concept of game play in decision making and thinking through decision trees. And Harry Harrison’s The Stainless Steel Rat Gets Drafted (1987) taught me about the potential for mass civil disobedience, in its depiction of a pacifist population concluding that the civil contract is so broken that it no longer needs to adhere to its side of the bargain.

    Not all resistance is direct. Some is about creating a new paradigm and taking the world along with you. Suzette Haden Elgin’s Native Tongue (1984) argues that if you change the language, you change the way people think and you change the world. In the book the revolution fails, but considerable changes in our world have been brought about this way, which may be why language has become a primary target for the American presidential administration. Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower (1993) takes this even further; new language and a new mindset lead to a new religious order which remakes the world. Resistance can also be about living your life in an active mode of refusal; in Nalo Hopkinson’s Brown Girl in the Ring (1998), Ti-Jeanne and Gross-Jeane fight day by day to resist the world they live in, and to help others survive. In Vajra Chandrasekera’s The Saint of Bright Doors (2023), resistance focuses on the power of religion as those who are not the chosen, whose prophecies do not come true, seek to shape a new way of living. Arkady Martine’s A Memory Called Empire (2019) is about resistance to cultural imperialism on an inter-galactic scale, and Darcie Little Badger’s A Snake Falls to Earth (2021) operates at both a metaphysical and a local level.

    A recent author to take on the topic of resistance is Naomi Kritzer in a trilogy of tales from 2023. The short story “Better Living Through Algorithms” exhorts workers to take control of their lives and collaborate in their leisure as an act of resistance to corporate wellness culture. “The Year Without Sunshine” is another story that emphasizes community resistance to external paradigms of sink-or-swim libertarianism, while Liberty’s Daughter sees the underclasses on a seastead—bonded laborers and the noncitizen children of citizens—use the disruption of a plague to raise their own value and force a redistribution of property. It is very utopian, but its core message is that our labor matters, solidarity is our strength, and that injustice is not inevitable; all important messages right now.

    https://seattlein2025.org/2025/07/04/fantastic-fiction-resistance-2/

    #ArkadyMartine #BrianStableford #DarcieLittleBadger #HarryHarrison #JoanSlonczewski #JoeHaldeman #JudithMofett #NaloHopkinson #NaomiKritzer #OctaviaButler #OrsonScottCard #PiersAnthony #SuzetteHadenElgin #VajraChandrasekera

    Fantastic Fiction: Resistance: In my teens I was profoundly affected by a small number of books that I read. As a result of reading them I became intensely interested in the politics of pacifism and the str (#ArkadyMartine #BrianStableford #DarcieLittleBadger #HarryHarrison #JoanSlonczewski #JoeHaldeman #JudithMofett #NaloHopkinson #NaomiKritzer #OctaviaButler #OrsonScottCard #PiersAnthony #SuzetteHadenElgin #VajraChandrasekera)

    Full post: https://seattlein2025.org/2025/07/04/fantastic-fiction-resistance-2/

    ‘Worlds Apart’ Embraces Post-Apocalyptic Horror and Hope

    Worlds Apart (1983) by Joe Haldeman pits humanity against itself. The worst aspects of itself. Despite this, though, Worlds Apart is a story of hope in the face of impossible obstacles. It is this slim thread of hope that makes Worlds Apart an interesting and compelling story.

    Marianne O’Hara escaped just as the first missiles landed. Back on New New York she and the thousands of others watched in horror as the world tore itself apart. Then as the world, jealous of the orbiting habitats turned their missiles on them.

    The bombs killed billions but what came next was worse. A virus is let loose that kills everyone over the age of twenty. And keeps on killing. The future of the human race looks bleak.

    Up in New New, however, the last remnants of humanity’s technological society begin work on a plan. In fact, several plans. Each one in the hope that even on the brink of extinction they can save themselves, the earth, and the future they so foolishly squandered.

    Worlds Apart takes the post-apocalyptic idea into some truly dark and twisted territory. Haldeman, with his usual style, takes strange ideas to their fullest potential. Even if where they lead are unsavory.

    Beginning with the start of the war, Worlds Apart follows the events on New New York and on Earth in one year increments. With each segement the reader gets a glimpse into the struggles, personal, technical, and political, that the characters face.

    Like all of Haldeman’s stories, Worlds Apart is about people. And Haldeman has a wonderful way with his characters. The main protagonist, Marianne O’Hara, is a great example. She is tough, compentent, and interesting, yet emotionally vulnerable and relatable. Even in the worst characters there is a spark that hints at depths unseen by the reader.

    Haldeman has never shied away from exploring the worst aspects of what makes us human and Worlds Apart is no exception. Whether on New New or on Earth Haldeman creates situations and events that will undoubtly make many readers uncomfortable. Yet through any horror portrayed Haldeman keeps a firm grip on his thread of hope. Which is good since many readers might give up on the story.

    Even in Worlds Apart‘s world building there is a logical reasoning behind some Haldeman’s choices. Given the survivalist aspect of the story it makes sense that some extremist ideals might gain a foothold. Thankfully Haldeman is able to make use of this without being absurd.

    Joe Haldeman

    As the story progresses Haldeman balances between events on Earth and on New New with ease. Neither thread supercedes the other. Haldeman builds and weaves them together in a web of support.

    Where Worlds Apart is a bit jarring is between the first and second half of the story. The first half is done in third person perspective then Haldeman suddenly switches to first person. It makes me wonder if the two halves were written at widely different times. Regardless of the reason, Haldeman make it work overall.

    For fans of post-apocalyptic stories Worlds Apart will be an interesting spin. The idea of a survivors in space working with suvivors on Earth may not be a familiar one but it is unique. Worlds Apart is difficult at times but ultimately rewarding.

    #BookReview #JoeHaldeman #SF #WorldsApart

    Also, #HorsehoeCrabs remind me of that species in #JoeHaldeman 's #AllMySinsRemembered.

    Yup, that one. 😭

    Cute little blue-blooded bleeders.*

    *literally - they use haemocyanin instead of haemoglobin.

    Every few years, I'll think of episodes in it, of dialogue, of the ideas it had that were brainhurty and beautiful.

    I'll think of parts that made me put the book down because they were so real and made me weep so much.

    And then I have to dig out #JoeHaldeman 's #AllMySinsRemembered yet again.

    #ScienceFiction